Movie Night in 221B
by RugbyProp
Summary: John and Sherlock have a movie night in 221B. Things don't go as planned. Some John/Sherlock fluff. Once again, I tend to rate high just to be safe.  Also, John and Sherlock are quite OoC
1. Chapter 1

"A-ha! Here it is!" John held up the DVD case triumphantly, ignoring the strange looks he was receiving from the other patrons at the movie rental store.

"And what did you find this time?" Sherlock asked drolly, his grey-blue eyes deducing everything about the others in the store without much difficulty. That one there was going through a divorce, over there a single mother of three, boring.

"It's the one I was telling you about, it's called Hurt Locker." John replied casting a look at Sherlock. He didn't expect the man to remember everything he said but they'd had a conversation about this movie on the way to the store.

Sherlock shrugged, he didn't remember that ever coming up in a conversation, ever. "Mm-hmm."

"It's supposed to be good; it won quite a few BAFTAs and some Oscars." John showed the front of the case to Sherlock and pointed to where the awards were announced.

Sherlock stared at John as if he was speaking a foreign language, "I don't know what an Oscar is, let alone a BAFTA… is that even a word?" 

John quirked an eyebrow up, "Seriously what rock did you live under?" They had had many conversations like this but it never ceased to amaze John what seemingly useless facts Sherlock stored away in his brain. He knew what the treads looked like on various brands of trainers but didn't remember Remembrance Day.

Sherlock sighed, looking even more bored, "Why do we even have these movie nights? They seem trivial. Plus it takes time away from our cases." 

"You do know that it is a good idea to take some nights off and relax. You don't have to work 24/7." John gave him a look that told Sherlock that there was no way to talk his way out of movie night. It was happening whether he liked it or not.

"Fine." Sherlock said rolling his eyes. There was no use in fighting.

"Besides if we had had our Bond movie night I'm sure you would've solved the Scandal in Belgravia a bit faster."

"As I recall," Sherlock replied. A devilish smile appeared on his face as he wrapped his arms around John, hugging him from behind, "We were doing something infinitely more interesting than watching a movie." He nibbled at John's ear.

John's ear turned bright red, not just from the bite but embarrassment. People were staring, they were trying to hide it but they weren't doing a good job at it. John tensed up, clearly uncomfortable, "Sherlock, not now," he hissed, "people will talk."

"And as I've told you, people always have and always will." He gave John a quick peck on the cheek and letting the shorter man go. "Now where were we? Ah yes, what is this Hurt Locker movie about?" He could see John wasn't going to answer him, at least not for a little bit. That was his punishment for the PDA. Sherlock took the DVD case from John and read the back.

"John, you do know what this is about?" It wasn't Afghanistan but the war scenes would no doubt look remarkably similar. "Are you sure there isn't another film you want to see?"

John's silent treatment didn't last long. "I'll be fine, Sherlock, really. I haven't had an episode in months, nearly a year!" He looked Sherlock dead in the face. Almost daring Sherlock to question him again.

Sherlock could see no hesitation or fear in John's face. "Very well, Hurt Locker it is."


	2. Chapter 2

"Oi! Sherlock, hurry up!" John yelled down the hall.

Sherlock appeared in his pyjama pants, a dark blue t-shirt, and his plaid dressing gown. He padded down the hall in his bare feet.

John snorted at the dressing robe, "You don't have to get dressed up for the movie you know? It's just us."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "Alright so you've got the popcorn and the blankets. I have got the jelly babies and the DVD."

Sherlock popped the movie into the DVD player and settled in on the couch next to John. They sat so close that there was no space between them. Sherlock's right arm wrapped around John's body and pulled him in even tighter.

"I'm not going anywhere, Sherlock." John nudged Sherlock's arm trying to loosen his grasp just a bit. It was nice knowing that he was there.

"I know," Sherlock replied with a small smile. He planted a kiss on John's temple. The consulting detective let his lips linger on John for a moment longer. John pulled away, the movie was starting and he didn't want to be distracted.

The pair turned towards the television screen. Sherlock's eyes, however, were focused on the mirror above the television, watching John's face. This was one of the only ways he could stand these movie nights. He found John's expressions and reactions to the movies much more interesting than the movies themselves.

It wasn't more than fifteen minutes into the movie that Sherlock felt John's body start to tense up. In the mirror Sherlock could see John's eyes widening, saw as he absently rubbed the spot where he had been shot in the shoulder. The ex-soldier's breath quickened and he jumped at each explosion. Sherlock tried to place a comforting hand on John's shoulder, but the man shied away from that as well.

"Alright, John," Sherlock said as he reached for the remote and turned it to some trash reality show where strangers lived in a house together, "that's enough of that." He couldn't bear to see John like that.

"Sherlock, really, I am fine," John said not sounding even the least bit convincing. Sherlock could still feel John tensed up against him.

"We both know that's not true, John." Sherlock placed a gentle kiss on John's forehead. "Besides, I have the remote." He held up the controller and used his long arms to place it out of John's reach.

John sighed; his body relaxing a bit as he did so, and nuzzled against Sherlock's should to settle in for an evening of trash TV. Sherlock made it more interesting by deducting what he could about each contestant. 

* * *

><p>Later that evening:<br>John's dreams that night were interrupted by the first nightmares in months, which was to be expected. John's screams shattered the silent night. Sherlock was there, he pulled John close to him, trying to comfort the man. John, body still tensed up by the nightmare, rested his head on Sherlock's chest, listening to the consulting detective's slow, steady heartbeat. Sherlock's long fingers stroked John's hair, only pausing to place a kiss or two on John's head, "My brave, stupid soldier."

The End 


End file.
